


A Silent Kind of Companionship

by RyuuShinobi



Category: Borderlands
Genre: Character Study, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, I write lonely things when I'm lonely, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-13 04:12:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5694265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RyuuShinobi/pseuds/RyuuShinobi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's sad, being trapped inside your own mind, and it's sadder when the psycho controlling your body wishes for friendship as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Silent Kind of Companionship

**Author's Note:**

> A comfort fic because I love being mean. ╰( ◕ ᗜ ◕ )╯  
> [Tumblr Mirror @ryuushinobi](http://ryuushinobi.tumblr.com/post/137067062012)

He didn't think he would ever hit this point of loneliness. Hell, he could talk to himself. And respond. How many people could make claims like that?

Yet, the psycho was uncharacteristically silent.

_Hey. What's up with you? Did you suddenly decide to mellow out enough for us to possibly function on a near-normal level?_

A low rumbling growl came from his throat. His head shook, ever so slightly, as he closed his eye tight and continued to scrape the blade of his axe on the large boulder he was sitting on. The sound of metal against stone echoed in the dry air. The open feel of the arid nexus, with the rolling sandy expanses and miles upon miles of slag pipes, and not a single friendly settlement in sight, made the location feel... "Empty!" he grumbled.

_Because you killed nearly everything in the immediate area._

The psycho's throat vibrated again and he cracked open his eye, as if mulling over the thought. He turned his head, looking towards where the body of a badass corrosive skag lay. The rakk had stopped circling above, somehow picking up that Krieg would use them for target practice if they got too close. "No no no no! This is empty!" The buzz axe hit the boulder again for emphasis, and then once more because he could. "The emptiness is here!"

_Where's here?_

Krieg growled in frustration. He let go of his axe, and it clattered against the rock. Kicking out his legs, he fell backwards to sprawl his body over the top of his perch. "Here," he said, rolling the r slightly, as he brought his hand to his chest. He hit it once, lightly with his fist, then unfurled his hand and dug his fingernails into his skin. "Here..."

Ah. Empty in his chest. _You're lonely too, huh?_

The psycho didn't respond.

It's weird that his psycho side would have such an emotion such as loneliness. But...

He had to give up on the idea of company. It was hard enough staying around the other vault hunters when the psycho had a motor mouth and his favorite topics included meat and body fluids. And it wasn't like he could reach out and take control. He was only a voice. A prisoner, really, trapped inside his own mind. At the very least, he could make convincing threats.

The pair stared up at the dusty sky of the boneyard. He had been here for hours, sitting cross-legged on this damn rock until recently. The psycho was unusually still for such an active, rampaging beast that had a constant jitter to his movements, and even as the sky yellowed and darkened around them, spreading a certain calm over the arid nexus, Krieg didn’t move. Hyperion’s shadow elongated across the moon before being swallowed whole by the night.

_Wake up. We should get back to Sanctuary soon._

Krieg grunted.

_Yeah, me neither._

A curious skag crawled out of its den, pawing and sniffing at the ground as it patrolled, breaking the silence in the air. Krieg’s hand twitched at the noise, from its place still clasped over his chest. His fingers closed, pressing his nails into his skin, then his hand relaxed, seemingly forgetting about the skag as it crawled back into its den.

“That’s very unlike you. / Living and breathing targets / don’t leave you unscathed.”

Krieg’s hand instantly went to the handle of his axe, and he sat up. The assassin was too quiet for his own good. One day he’d get an axe to the face, if he wasn’t careful.

“Tired…” the psycho sighed, blinking dust from his eye. Zer0 was to his left, standing tall and silent on top of the boulder. His arms were crossed, Krieg could make that out in the dim reflected light from the moon, and he seemed to be disinterested, of course, looking out into the distance.

“How are you tired? / An eternal spark inside / is what fuels psychos.”

Krieg said nothing for a moment, instead looking from Zer0 to whatever point the assassin was staring at, then thudding backwards to lay down. “Tired of the emptiness in my chest. The fire continues to burn and burn and burn and I feed it to keep the flame running but my _insides_ always hurt.” He thumped his chest again, uttering a low growl.

Zer0 hummed, his tightly-crossed arms loosening as he turned his torso to see where the psycho was lying. “So a heartache plagues / Pandora’s best maniac? / Ever-present pain.”

Lifting his chin upwards, Krieg stared at the sky once more. He traced the stars with his eye. The anger and rage that usually accompanied him was simmering in the pit of his stomach, but the longer he stayed still, the longer it continued to boil and froth over, and a soft grumble burbled beneath the otherwise calm surface.

_You need some sort of stimulation. We need to go. You’ve been still for too long._

He snorted, his chest heaving with the action.

“Want some company? / All creatures feel loneliness, / so I understand.” Zer0 said, sitting down despite what the psycho might have to say as an answer. He sat with his legs crossed, and leaned forward on his elbows.

_Don’t scare him off._

Krieg punched the side of his head. “Don’t tell me what to do!”

The assassin didn't flinch. “Talking to yourself? / We worry when you do that; / but you have reasons.” He glanced back at Krieg, then turned his helmeted head towards the sky. “Sometimes I wonder, / if you understand all my / communications.”

_Tell him you do. Tell him we both understand._

“No! No, no, no!” Krieg clapped both hands to his head now, digging dirty nails into his scalp.

“ _Krieg!_ ” Zer0 snapped, twisting around once more to face the psycho.

Krieg froze in place and tensed, his arms stilling and going stiff. He wanted to reach for his axe, and maybe chase off the number. Chase him away so he could sulk and mope and murder in peace!

Maybe Zer0 was looking at him with compassion, or disgust. Maybe it was concern or annoyance. It was hard to tell, but the assassin did have a rigid feeling about his body, his hands tightening into fists. He tilted his head, shook it lightly, as if disapproving of a thought.

“You’re lonely, I know. / I comprehend and share similar / thoughts of loneliness. / Do you ever wonder / how everything would change if / you were different?” Zer0 shrugged. He lifted his elbows off of his knees and leaned back, imitating Krieg’s carefree posture as he returned his gaze to the stars above. A particularly pointy part of the rock dug into his lower back, and he wiggled in place.

The psycho beside him grumbled. That boiling over pot of anger seemed to return to a simmer, merely bubbling below the surface. His hand no longer itched for his buzz axe. At the very least, the voice in his head was quiet.

“Still hurts,” Krieg said with a grunt. He pressed a hand to his chest again, scratching at old scabs and scars, pulling at his skin until it turned red in irritation. And as he picked at his own skin, the fire shrank and dulled, losing fuel to the assassin’s mere presence. “But less burning.”

The assassin crossed his arms behind his head, getting comfortable even as the chill of the night air seeped into his bones.

“Yes.”


End file.
